


You Think This Bothers Me?

by DearHeartx



Series: Fictober 2018 [10]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lyrium Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-21 05:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearHeartx/pseuds/DearHeartx
Summary: Elysia and Cullen struggle with their own problems shortly after arriving at Skyhold.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Fictober 2018 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802731





	You Think This Bothers Me?

Skyhold was more open than Haven, allowed her to breathe. It wasn’t tiny cottages stacked one on top of the other, all leading to a towering Chantry that represented everything she’d been taught to run from her entire life. But Skyhold still wasn’t the Plains, it wasn’t the forest, it wasn’t the rushing river where she’d have to weigh down her clothes with rocks while she bathed for fear they’d be dragged off by the whipping winds. She missed the wide openness of nature, especially after long lectures on diplomacy with Josephine. She meant well, but if they could only have their lessons out here, on the ramparts instead of cramped in Josephine’s small study with short ceilings and a too hot fire that choked her lungs.

Elysia hugged her arms to stomach, the cold wind biting through her thin tunic. Deshanna would be ashamed at the type of clothing they had her wearing nowadays, but she had to be presented as regal when in the hold, not practical. She sighed deeply and stared out over the rolling hills below her, wondering how far away the closest Dalish clan roamed. They’d likely keep a wide berth, not trusting the Shem army that had invaded the elven fortress. Elgar’nan, they probably thought her a traitor for leading them here, for doing it in the name of Andraste.

She leaned against the wall, forgoing any attempt to hold warmth into her body. A day would come when the Dalish and the humans would break bread together. She would see to that. If she could lov— if she could lead an entire human army, an inner circle of humans, elves, and dwarves all treated as one, there was no one reason why she couldn’t get her clan to accept him—them—humans.

Her eyes flitted to Cullen’s window. She’d rather hoped he’d found his way to bed by now, it was long past sundown and the moon had risen high into the sky, but candlelight still flickered in the lower level of his tower. He had missed the most recent War Meeting…and dinner…she wouldn’t be doing her duty as Inquisitor if she didn’t at least check on him.

It was a short walk to his door, but by the time she reached it she had a not of anxiety heavy in her gut. She paced back and forth, fingers twisting together, as she practiced her opening her lines to him. She had almost settled on which greeting to use when she heard a great crash from inside his tower and a muffled cry. Without a second thought, she wrenched the door open and found Cullen on his hands and knees, struggling to right himself.

“Inquisitor!” She could hear his surprise, but more concerning was the sheer weakness of his voice. 

She knelt beside him, ready to help hoist him into his desk chair, but kneeling so close to him allowed for closer inspection and she was frightened by what she found. A thick sheen of sweat covered his forehead, his perfectly coifed hair hung limply across his forehead, and the color had drained from his face leaving a sickly pallor where a crimson blush usually resided. “Cullen, what did this to you? Are you okay? I’ll get the healer!” She pushed up from the floor, but found herself pulled back down by Cullen’s surprising strength.

“No! No healer,” he rasped. “They cannot help me. Besides, I…am fine.” His breathing was labored, a painful wheeze audible between his words, and it was obvious to Elysia that Cullen was far from fine. When he reached for the desk and pulled, trying to stand again, his legs collapsed from underneath him. He crashed back onto the floor, pulling Elysia with him.

Elysia gently untangled her legs from Cullen, but did not stand. Instead, she kneeled next to him, and pulled his head into her lap. “Creators, Cullen. Talk to me.” Slowly, she carded her fingers through his hair, wiped the sweat from his brow.

“I never…meant for you…to see me…like this.”

Elysia could not tell if the breaks in his words were from his wheezing or the soft sobs that had begun to shake his body.

“You think this troubles me? Do you think I will think you weak?” She said, soft and calming, but with enough conviction that Cullen knew her to be truthful. “Cullen, I can handle sickness. I can handle many things people seek to protect me from. What I cannot handle, is to see you in needless pain.” She paused for a beat before continuing. “Will you allow me to help?…With my magic?”

Another sob wracked his body, but after a moment she felt his nod against her thigh. She called healing magic to both hands, a soft blue light filled the room. It was only a few moments after her hands touched his back, that he began to relax. She could sense a dark knot that her healing magic could not untangle, but she was able to ease the pain and sickness around the darkness. When she was done, she resumed stroking his hair and simply waited for him to speak.

“Forgive me.” 

She couldn’t help but to laugh, soft and quiet, but a laugh none the less. “Cullen! Whatever for?” 

“This was never your burden to share.”

Elysia tucked a curl behind his ear, tracing the shape of his ear as she did so. “Any burden of yours is my burden to share, Cullen. You need only to let me.”


End file.
